


No One Can Predict

by bonmot507



Category: Saved by the Bell
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonmot507/pseuds/bonmot507
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things in this world that no one can predict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Can Predict

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on Fireworks 11, The FemSlash Today Porn Battle. Saved By The Bell, Kelly/Jessie, reunion. Also, I don't usually write in second person, so hopefully it hits right.

Title: No One Can Predict  
Fandom: Saved By The Bell  
Pairing: Jesse/Kelly  
Rating: R  
Feedback: Comments, PMs, whatever. I'll take it how I can get it.  
Disclaimer: Just playin', don't sue, please?  
Summary: There are some things in this world that no one can predict.  
Notes: Written for a prompt on Fireworks 11, The FemSlash Today Porn Battle. Saved By The Bell, Kelly/Jessie, reunion. Also, I don't usually write in second person, so hopefully it hits right.

 

  
You're standing under a huge banner that reads, “Welcome Back Bayside Alumni”, sipping a glass of bad white wine. You've already seen Mr. Belding who still resembles a giant teddy bear and exchanged the necessary pleasantries. You're glad he's still here for kids, because you loved every minute of your high school career and he was a huge part of it. You smile and bite your lip, your mind wandering as your gaze roams over the hundreds of former classmates you barely remember. You could strike up a conversation, you know, but you don't really feel like explaining what's happened in your life to virtual strangers.

AC and Lisa had left hours ago, claiming they needed to get the kids to bed. It still makes you smile that after all of those years, they ended up together. There are things in this world that no one could ever predict. Still, Lisa's knowing smirk had become rather annoying as she watched you watch the door. “She's coming. We emailed a few times back and forth last week.” She had assured you and you were annoyed that you were still so transparent to the girl, even all these years later. You asked about Zach, trying to keep your tone light, but AC just muttered under his breath and Lisa rolled her eyes and told you he wasn't coming. It was still hard to imagine Zach Morris, your best friend, the one who had saved you, and gotten you into trouble, and climbed the tree into your window when things got really bad could act like such a gigantic dickhead, but... there are things in this world that no one could ever predict. You couldn't help bite back the question: “But she is?” Lisa smirks at you again and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

New York had been eye-opening in a way that was indescribable. Columbia had been completely life altering. Still, it had taken a long time to admit to yourself – long after you came out, long after you had fucked your way through most of the women studies department, that your crush on her had been so, so much more than that. Your desire for her all through high school was more than working through your feelings about being a lesbian and was about the fact that you had been mind numbingly in love with her. The hours that you had spent trying not to think about her, when you should have been thinking about AC, trying to convince yourself it was normal curiosity, or simply a best friend's concern for her goodness, her kindness, how concerned you were that the world would break her. That he might break her. To say nothing of the hours you spent fantasizing about her in your bed, doing unspeakable (at the time) things to one another.

The glass in your hand is empty and you immediately find the bar to fill it. As you turned back, your eyes went immediately back to the door, and there she was: a vision in a slinky black dress and sad eyes, you couldn't help but stare. Memories flooded your mind suddenly, sending a flush to your cheeks, the way your back would arch in pleasure as you fingered yourself on your childhood bed with the springs that dug into your ass. The creakiness of the twin mattress that would sound with every movement your body made, the feel of the cheap pastel sheets balled in your fist as you came, her name on your lips. The cry becomes a whisper now in the air of the hotel banquet hall, but somehow she hears you because she appears in front of you.

She's as exquisite as ever, and your breath catches in your throat as you stare, the warm smile that graces her features turn your insides into molten lava. She's speaking and the way her expression changes into concern, she must be repeating herself for the third or fourth time. “Jessie?” She asks, and god, the way she says your name with a kind of reverence, with such a tinge of deep concern makes you want to mount her in the middle of the damn room, former classmates be damned. You pull your gaze reluctantly from her lips, which seem to quirk as if she's caught you staring, and zone back into conversation.

You smile in a way that you hope is enchanting and pretend to look around. “Zach?” you ask. You already know, of course, but it's polite to pretend. But her smile dims and she shakes her head. You rest a hand on her arm (for support), and try to ignore the way your nipples harden as you feel the softness of her skin beneath your fingertips, her warmth seeping through your skin for the first time in years. “Fuck him.” You've always loved Zach, and frankly, you're kind of thankful that he left the woman of your dreams for Stacey Carosi.

She lights up instantly as her face contorts in laughter. “Jessie Spano, you never cursed in high school.” She looks at you appraisingly. “It sounds good when you say it.” Her eyes trail over your form, which you've encased rather scandalously in a very short red dress, your long legs running for miles underneath it and your cleavage spilling out of the top in the most appealing way you could make it. The way she takes you in, there's a kind of new look in her eyes that feels to you like hunger, that flares a kind of hope through you. She grins, her tongue sliding over her lips. “Drink?”  
And crap, you lose count after the fourth, but if you had to guess, you've had six. And God, she's funnier than you remember, sexier than you imagined. Once you get through the story of her and Zach ending, (“Really, AC and Lisa are so sweet, but we got married too young, and he's a great guy, and I wish him and Stacey the best. They're great together.”), and you've moved onto her life in LA, you swear she's getting touchier. Her legs graze yours every few minutes when she turns to really look at you when she's trying to get a point across. She mentions someone she was seeing recently, and places a hand on your fist when she explains it ended because it wasn't working for her. When you reminisce about high school, the Max, sneaking into bars and making pasta sauce, and yes, that week you took “caffeine pills”, she pushes hair out of your face gently as you both laugh. When she looks at you with wide eyes, finally announcing that she's a little tipsy, she suggests you accompany her to the bathroom. You giggle, thinking about all the times the three of you, Kelly, you, and Lisa went to the bathroom to giggle about boys, AC's muscles, Zach's smile, Screech's drooling.

So when you're through the door of the bathroom, and she has you pushed into the handicap stall and she's locking the door, you're not completely sure what's happening. When her mouth is on yours suddenly, surprise is an understatement for how you're feeling. Delight is not. Her hand blazes a hot trail up your thigh and your mind is swimming. And when Kelly Kapowski slides three fingers into your wet heat, you gasp. “Fuck.”

Mostly she seems amused as she gazes at you. “Too much?” She asks, coquettishly.

You can't answer, except to thrust yourself down on her fingers, and as she starts to move, slowly, so you can feel every god damn inch of her fingers slide out of you, she begins laying wet kisses down your neck and over your cleavage. You moan. “Fuck, Kelly.”

She grins. “I swear you never cursed in high school. What happened to you, Jessie?” Her tone is playful, and you know she doesn't actually expect an answer.

You can't help yourself. “I did. Every time you showed up in that cheerleading uniform. Every time you sat next to me at the Max and brushed against me. Every time I fucked myself and wished it was you.”

She raises her head to look at you, her eyes wide with a kind of surprise, but she's grinning like she's always known. Her thumb hits your pulsing clit, and for a moment you think you're hallucinating, because the woman in front of you becomes the girl you once knew: Kelly, in all of her sixteen year old glory, plunging into you, making you keen and your body arch. You're aching to take a deep breath, but you're panting too hard. And fuck, does she know how to fuck because three of her fingers are hitting you deeper inside you, filling you more completely than you've ever, ever been fucked in your whole life. Inside your mind, seventeen year old Jessie Spano, almost, kinda class Valedictorian is screaming for joy and release because this – this moment with Kelly's lips on your body and her thumb rubbing your clit in hard circles and her three fingers stretching you as she hits the sweet spot again and again and again – this is her most valued, most treasured, her best accomplishment. Your best accomplishment.

At this realization, and with a rather brutal twist of Kelly's fingers, you cum hard, grabbing her fingers and squeezing, holding her deep inside you, you jerk and she waits, murmuring words against your skin, your neck, placing soft kisses wherever she can reach. You can't hear what she's saying and you don't care, only that she's there, holding onto you, and not letting go. There are things in this world that no one can predict.  


  



End file.
